Fractured and Fallen
by Malinkibelka
Summary: The Lions are caged and Wade rises to power. The Voltron Force faces a life apart from each other.  The first of a cycle of stories.  K/A but that's not focus of story...really.  Rated M for some language, tension and drinking.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One- Fractured and Fallen.

Don't own Voltron, just love it & make no money off of it.

The polished television reporter spoke in cool, rehearsed tones.

_...and thank you , Charles, for the update on the launch of the new fleet._

_And for those of you that have been following the Voltron hearings- we have a press release from the Galaxy Alliance Public Affairs office, as the actual proceedings are closed to the public. _

_"Today, the committee heard prepared statements from members of the Voltron Force. The testimony was entered into official record as the committee weighs the future of the Arusian technology..."_

_-_The screen is filled with a clearly uncomfortable and highly-decorated Lieutenant McClain speaking before a panel of even more highly-decorated men.-

_"...the technology is unreliable, to say the least. I would not feel comfortable leaving the defense of the Galaxy Alliance in the hands of this defense system."_

"What the holy hell?" The lieutenant nearly spat out the aged whiskey he had been sipping. "That's not what I said."

A young Tech Sergeant looked up from his datapad on the couch opposite the lieutenant. "Of course that is what you said. That pretty lady with the helmet hair just said so."

"Don't you have something scientific and mathematic to do?", Lance McClain spat as he continued with his whiskey. The two men were the only occupants of the common area of a luxury suite of rooms. They may have been sequestered in five star hotel, however the Voltron Force felt more like prisoners in gilded cage than welcome guests on their home planet.

Tech Sergeant Stokker , otherwise known as Pidge, just shrugged. He knew very well that was not what the lieutenant had said. He had been sitting behind Lance when he was asked about the likelihood of Galaxy Alliance Fractal Fighters taking the place of Voltron in defense of Arus. His answer, as well as the whole team, had been warped and taken out of context. By whom and for what reason was still as mystery.

The past few days had been a nightmare for the Voltron Force. The experience reminded Pidge of the famous 'Through the Looking Glass' stories where a young girl named Alice stepped over into another world-everything she knew as true and fact was turned inside out.

The same had happened to the Voltron Force. They had stepped over a threshold into a demented world where they were no longer heroes that had forced Zarkon and Planet Doom out of the business of tyranny and misery. They had become the outcasts.

"Tomorrow is Keith's turn. Is he here yet?" Pidge asked, tapping into his datapad.

"Hell if I know. Am I my commander's keeper?" Lance turned the highball glass up.

"So, you're just going to sit here and drink whiskey you can't afford and gripe about a bunch of old geezers who want to mothball Voltron?"

"Nope. I have no intention of sitting here, Pidge." Lance stood up abruptly from the couch. "I'm going to go down to that pretentious bar on the first floor, drink whiskey I can't afford and gripe about a bunch of old geezers who want to mothball Voltron to a woman with big breasts and weakness for men in uniform. If you will excuse me..." Lance McClain stumbled toward the suite door.

"Hell, I thought he'd never leave!" Hunk walked out from one of the five bedrooms adjoining the common area of the suite. "He's a real downer when he's drinking whiskey...or after he's been grilled by a bunch of old generals about Voltron." Hunk Garrett sunk down into the couch next to his best friend grabbing the remote control abandoned by the lieutenant.

"The cable sucks here. No MetalMash channel...no XtremeSpeed channel...no Better Homes and Gardens channel..."

Pidge looked up from his datapad at the mention of the last channel.

"What? They've got killer grilling shows on there, Bro. "

"Just didn't think you were the type. "

"Ha! I am a man of many talents, Pidge."

The fact that Voltron's future was in jeopardy was the proverbial gorilla in the room. No one wanted to address the fact directly. Lance, Pidge, and Hunk had all testified that day. Each had their own way of dealing with their anger. Pidge buried himself in his datapad, Hunk tried to laugh it away, and Lance had tried to drink it off.

None of those seemed to work.

The suite doors silently opened. Pidge never missed a keystroke on his datapad as he quipped, "Well, Lieutenant, it must of been slim pickings down in the bar!"

"Oh, Arus! I have no intention of picking anything at a hotel bar, Pidge!"

The sound of the warm feminine voice made both Hunk and Pidge snap to attention.

"PRINCESS!" Pidge and Hunk leapt over the couch in unison to greet their teammate. Hunk engulfed her in a bear hug. Pidge took his turn with a quick embrace.

"We didn't expect you until tomorrow!" Pidge remarked as he helped Allura with her suitcase. "Wow, for a Princess, you sure do pack light!"

"Living with you boys the past three years took the 'girl' right out of me, you know. It is truly a miracle that I haven't burned all of my dresses and finery and cut my hair." She grinned as she surveyed the suite. "Although, I must say, this is a rather nice hotel the Galaxy Alliance has arranged for us." Allura crossed the room behind the couch to the wide panoramic window. The city lights twinkled below.

The princess of Arus stood for a moment with her arms crossed, surveying the city and the Galaxy Alliance headquarters on the horizon.

"So, there they are. The assholes who want to tear us apart."

Pidge chuckled at the princess' vulgar language. Their influence was obvious on the noble heir of Arus.

"They can't tear us apart." Pidge responded. He placed his hand on Allura's shoulder.

"No. I will not give them the satisfaction. I just never believed we had enemies here at the Galaxy Alliance. " Allura sighed. " We fought Zarkon all those years, who would have believed our own allies would be the ones to defeat Voltron."

The princess bowed her head and closed her eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2-Friends with Benefits

A short note on continuity: I'm borrowing the idea that Keith was engaged and his fiancée died-from Devil's Due comic continuity. And this is going to be K/A...eventually. Relationships are complicated: baggage, pressure, misunderstandings...loneliness. But, I'm getting ahead of myself...

8^8

"I'll take another one."

Lance planted the recently emptied old fashioned onto the wooden bar.

_Well, it's not Single Barrel Jack, but after the day I've had...I'll take it. _

The Red Lion Voltron pilot was seated along with a few patrons at the hotel bar. He took a moment to survey his surroundings. It seemed to Lance that the bar was an afterthought to whomever had designed this hotel. The bar was tucked away in a far corner of the grey marble atrium behind some ridiculous shrubbery and small fountain. The remainder of the atrium was reserved for the decent and sober people: a smattering of tables for a restaurant, a subdued string quartet, a couple of over-priced boutiques. The splashing sounds of the fountain mixed with the quartet's subdued music echoed through the open atrium. Two elevators bobbed up and down at the opposite end of the expanse of the hotel. The doors of the hotel rooms, spaced and aligned precisely, were neatly arranged into nine terraces. The pompous atrium and the terraces above it compiled the ten floors of the hotel. The floors were bland, identical copies of each other.

_Conformity- everything in a row_. Lance thought. _It's depressing as hell._

For someone who despised conformity, he could not imagine a life outside of the military. His life in the service of the Galaxy Alliance gave him the stability and security he never had as a child. Growing up in the affluent home of a defense contractor had provided Lance little security or comfort. His father's industry kept the Galaxy Alliance and anyone else who had the money in the most modern war technology, kept Lance in a steady rotation of some the best boarding schools and kept up the very expensive shopping and drug habits of Lance's mother. Lance could get expelled from an exclusive boarding school just about as fast as his mother could snort a powder up her nose.

That world seemed a million miles away; a million miles would never be enough for Lance.

A bored bartender placed another glass of Jack Daniels in front of the Lieutenant. There were two bartenders, both male-to Lance's disappointment-who were keeping a dozen or so patrons happy in their corner of exile. At least the bar's position in the corner of the atrium was able to utilize the hotel walls for a few monitors. Lance looked up over the rim of the glass at crush car demolition, some demented music videos and a repeat of today's news. He seemed to be the only one paying much attention to the monitors. The other patrons were huddled together in pairs or small groups. Laughing, talking, flirting.

_This bar blows. The prices blow. This whole damn situation blows. _

"Pardon me, Lieutenant. Is this seat taken? "

Lance knew instantly it was Princess Allura. He had nearly sensed her presence lighten up the lifeless bar without seeing her sneaking up behind his barstool. Hardly that 16 year-old kid hiding in a crumbling castle anymore, she had matured into fighter and a respectable pilot over the past few years. Despite her soft features and fairy-tale princess appearance, Allura had developed a steel will and a tenacity that most Galaxy Alliance officers lacked.

War has a nasty habit of hardening and maturing people, even fairy-tale princesses.

Lance thought to himself, _If there ever was a real fairy tale princess, it would be Allura. Intense blue eyes, long honey-blonde hair, fair and flawless skin, a perfect rack..._

He grinned mischievously. Things weren't really like 'that' between them. The Red Lion pilot of Voltron and the heir to the throne of Arus shared a very friendly repartee. Still, it was hard not to notice how beautiful she was. Lance Charles McClain was many things...a eunuch or a monk was not one of them. He could smell her light perfume and feel her hand on his shoulder.

He tried not to notice what her touch stirred in him.

Of course, he was very happy to see her. But, he couldn't pass up an opportunity...to keep the kid in check.

"Sorry, Princess. The set of 'criteria' for the future occupant of this seat has been set. While your 'criteria' is very nice, I'm needing more ample and less respectable 'criteria' to cry on. Since you're not qualified, you can take the next seat over."

The light hand on the shoulder became a forceful whack to the back of his head. "Oh, I see how well that's going for you! Let's try this again." Allura, smug in her sarcasm, planted herself on the barstool next to Lance. "Hello, Lance! Strange finding you here, in a bar...drinking!"

Lance hoisted the glass aloft. "This is much cheaper than therapy and doesn't look as bad as beating the shit out of a bunch of old generals."

"So, I heard you had a wonderful day."

Lance polished off the last of the amber drink in the glass, but he nearly spat it out as he surveyed his companion.

"Allura, please tell me you are not wearing a CrushCar Rally shirt."

"Oh isn't it wonderful? It's so soft!"

"It's also huge." Lance replied, shaking his glass slightly to stir the ice.

"Hunk let me borrow it. I am wearing Pidge's sweat pants. My trunks had to be inspected at the Alliance Reception Station. The inspection agents will deliver them later. I told Hunk and Pidge that I only had one suitcase! What a funny joke!" She grinned as she gently elbowed him.

"So your luggage was inspected. That's weird. I've never had my possessions inspected before. Were the agents looking for something or tell you why you were being inspected?"

Allura had missed her queue from Lance's question. She had been looking down at the scene of metal carnage on Hunk's shirt as if trying to translate an ancient text.

"Allura?"

"Yes! I mean, no-they said they had to inspect my cargo since I was not a citizen of Earth."

"But you're a citizen of the Alliance, not to mention you're one-fifth of the Defender of the Universe."

The princess began to remind Lance that the sentience of Voltron was part of the team as well, but she knew the 'boys' weren't as receptive to the magic of Voltron as the Arusians were. She decided to turn the subject back to her wardrobe choice.

"I really did not want to wear a flight suit to a bar. I thought I might stand out."

"Well, you certainly blend in at this stuffy-ass joint. And yes, I had a _wonderful _day, your Highness. I love getting a verbal cavity search for hours on end. It lets me know my place in the food chain. What the hell? I'm empty again?"

He huffed and slammed the glass down.

"And tomorrow morning is my turn. Then, Keith's. Have your heard from him?"

"Yeah. He said he would try to get back in tonight."

"Oh. I see. Where is he?"

"Out." Lance knew exactly where Keith was and whom he would be meeting just about now. Lance also knew if either Keith or the other prominent figure of the Galaxy Garrison leadership in question were caught, they would all become walking targets.

Allura quickly gathered from his tone that there was something he was not willing to share at the moment. She raised an inquisitive eyebrow toward the suddenly tip-lipped Lance. Keith was hardly the type to take off at a time like this.

"I don't suppose there's more to this story?"

"Maybe. " Allura was not prepared for Lance's next maneuver, but he wanted to stop the princess from asking questions that might draw unwelcome attention. Lance coolly placed his left hand on Allura's right shoulder, and he quickly narrowed the gap between them. The unexpected movement and the very close proximity of the Red Lion pilot caused Allura to raise her defenses. His lips and the heat of his breath traced across her cheek. She could smell a mix of Jack Daniels and a light cologne. Lance lightly began to whisper into Allura's ear...

"Let's pretend I just said something very funny and somewhat vulgar. When I pull away, show me your 'insulted princess' face. "

The heat of his breath on her neck was very distracting, since she was not accustomed to have men that close to her. Not as if she had never thought about what it would feel like; Allura had just imagined it would be someone else's breath...someone else pulling her in close.

He continued, enjoying the invasion of Allura's space. "This place is crawling with GA intel officers- probably isn't the best place to discuss what Keith is or isn't doing right now. You smell fantastic, by the way. Vanilla?" Before he pulled away, he gave her ear a mischievous nibble.

Allura unexpectedly yipped. "Lance! Don't they teach etiquette at the Officer's Academy. "

"I skipped that day. No more biting, promise."

"Fine, I will forgive you since you've had such a bad day. But one more bite, and I'm sending you to Arusian Finishing School."

"Fine by me. There will be lots of girls there , right?" He returned back to his barstool. _Ok, McClain, that was a little over the top but...I think I got the point across. I don't want to do anything to jeopardize Keith or Hawkins tonight._

Lance took the opportunity to change the topic. "So, are you ready for tomorrow? I thought I was ready. Then I watch the news tonight to find out that I think Voltron is unreliable and dangerous. Funny, that's not even close to what I said." Lance sighed. "I can't put my finger on it, but I've got a bad feeling about all of this. Keith does too."

Allura folded her hands on the bar and leaned in slightly to limit the range of their conversation. She was tired, Lance could see it in her expression. She had put on a good front for the first few minutes, but the usual light in her eyes had suddenly dimmed. Besides, she knew brave faces and sunny facades weren't necessary with Lance.

Her eyes were turned toward the bartenders buzzing around in the hive of the bar, but her words were directed to Lance. "I have worked for the past three days on my speech. I've tried to convey what Voltron has meant to Arus and what he still is to us. It's so hard to do in one speech. But that's the easy part...the speech." She turned her face down to look at her hands. " I dread their questions. Every single one of them is like a double-edged sword. No matter how we answer, they tear us to shreds."

Allura didn't see Lance subtlety gesture toward the bartender for two more drinks.

She continued her train of thought. "We didn't fight Zarkon all that time just to lose our defenses to the Galaxy Alliance. You know, Voltron is more to Arus than a giant robot. He is symbol of our proud past...he's just about all I have left of my father... . Oh! " The princess groaned and put her head down on her hands. Her hair, completely loose from her usual upswept braid, fell like a curtain around her head and onto the bar. From underneath the cascade of hair, Allura sighed. "I know you had a difficult day too, Lance. Hunk and Pidge told me what the reporters are saying. I came down here to cheer you up not dump on you."

"I know you did, Allura. Because that's just the kind of princess you are." Lance patted the top of the honey-blonde head still down on the bar.

The bartender placed two old fashioned glasses on the bar.

"Hey, let me return the favor. Let me cheer YOU up!" Lance reached across the bar and brought the glasses closer.

She turned her head slightly toward Lance. Teary blue eyes looked up at him through a few loose strands. "Where did those come from?

"Dunno. This kind of thing just happens to me when I'm sitting at bar with a beautiful woman. It's weird: drinks show up, the lights dim, music plays, magic happens..."

Allura laughed as she sat up. Her laugh- her real laugh- always surprised Lance. It was much deeper than any other woman's he had ever heard and seemed rather uninhibited for a princess. Of course, she was no ordinary princess. For the past three years, she had been piloting the Blue Lion of Voltron and rebuilding her war-torn world. For a princess, Allura certainly broke the mold.

"I do not believe that 'magic' is the right word for what happens to you ...at a bar, Lance. Thank you, but having a drink tonight just would not be a good idea. Besides, I'm immune to your magic."

"Yeah, I've noticed that ice princess 'immunity' thing you've got going on. " Perhaps that was what intrigued him the most about the Arusian princess. Lieutenant Lance McClain was not accustomed to having to work hard to get the attention of a woman. However, he had a pretty good idea this woman had her attention focused on someone else. Maybe he just liked the challenge...

"Aw, come on! It's a good idea. In fact, it's a fantastic idea." He slid the glass closer to Allura.

"Lance, you know I don't drink .._that _. " Allura wrinkled her nose slightly as she gestured with her hands toward the menacing glass.

"I know you don't drink that..._yet_! Come on, just try it. If you're not going to drink, what are you doing at a bar?"

"I'm here to cheer you up, but..."

Lance beat her to the punch. "And nothing would cheer me up more than to throw back a couple with my favorite Arusian Princess. But, if you can't handle a little drinky-drink, I understand." He cut his hazel eyes mischievously toward the princess. "It's kinda a 'guy-thing' anyway. Maybe I should just take that back.."

Lance knew just how to trip Allura's demure exterior-play the 'guy-thing' card.

"Oh no you don't!" Allura grabbed the glass and turned it up in one deft maneuver. Lance was almost startled at how quickly she managed it.

_Yep, works every time._ Lance mused to himself.

"Whew!" She replaced the glass back on the bar with a firm smack. Her eyes were wide with surprise. "You call that a drink? That's like swallowing fire. How do you drink this on a regular basis?"

Lance laughed. "You can just sip it, you know. Why don't you try one with some cola...really, much better. I promise!"

Allura looked down at the glass and then to the grinning lieutenant.

"Ok. Why the hell not?"

"Atta girl, Allura." Lance motioned for the bartender.

8^8

A couple of hours and more than a few drinks later...

The suite door silently parted. A pilot and a princess loudly stumbled through them.

"Some of the lights are off. I think they are asleep! SHHHHHH!"

"Don't tell me to SHHHHHHH, Woman!" Lance hissed loudly.

Allura playfully poked him in the ribs. "That's 'your highness, woman' to you! I mean it! I don't want to wake Pidge and Hunk up!"

"Whatever! Have you heard Hunk snore? Besides, we're like NINJAS! " Lance tried to drop down into some sort of fighting stance. However, a pile of six trunks had already claimed the space that Lance's right food had tried to occupy.

"SHIT!"

Lance fell on top of hard cases.

"Oh, look! My luggage is here!" Allura squealed, completely ignoring Lance's hard landing.

"You're no ninja, Lance. I should know." A voice quipped from across the darkened room as a solitary lamp clicked on. The inebriated duo turned toward the voice.

Pidge was sitting on the couch in a loose pair of gray sweats. His arms were crossed and his brow was wrinkled in slight condemnation of the intruders.

"Oh, hi Pidge! I see you're still up!" Allura blinked innocently at him. However, he wasn't buying it.

"Where have you two been?" Pidge's eyes narrowed and he crossed his arms. "I've been sitting up and waiting for you."

Lance sluggishly dismounted the stack of chests. He gave one a swift kick for good measure. "Women and their damn luggage."

"Yeah, those showed up a couple of hours ago. Can't say the same for you two." Pidge rose from the couch.

"We were just downstairs hanging out, DAD!" Lance teased.

"Well, we would STILL be downstairs if they hadn't asked us to leave! And if you kick my luggage again, I'm going to kick your ass, Lance!"

Lance turned his head toward the princess. Without blinking or moving his gaze from the princess, he lifted his left foot very slowly and brushed it next to the stack. "Whatcha gonna do about it, your highness-woman-getting us kicked out of a bar?"

Allura raised an eyebrow at the pilot and put her hands on her hips.

Pidge rolled his eyes. "Princess, please feel free to kick his butt anyway. I am going to bed. I suggest you two do the same. Goodnight!" The Green Lion pilot made a direct line for his room.

"Goodnight, DAD!" Lance replied, grinning fiendishly at the princess while stroking his foot against the luggage.

She waited for the sound of _Dad's_ door to close. "Ok, McClain, you're going down. Now!" She giggled as rushed at him.

Lance had intended to dodge her like a Spanish matador evading a bull, however his reflexes were operating on a three-second delay courtesy of the Jack Daniels. Instead, he caught her up in his arms as they both tumbled over the trunks. The result was a somewhat awkward, if not compromising, landing. During the course of the scuffle, Allura had spun around to land on her back. She, unwittingly, had pulled Lance down on top of her.

"Oh, sorry...I, ..." Allura eyes initially widened in reaction to the hard landing. However, as those blue eyes locked on the hazel eyes of the lieutenant looking down on her, they softened.

"Hey, you ok?" Lance whispered. He raised a hesitant hand over Allura's face and brushed a few locks of hair out of her eyes.

"Ow! I need softer luggage."

"Yeah, you do. And you need to get to bed...got a big day tomorrow." Lance certainly didn't mind the position he found himself in, but he knew the moment had passed. "I think you have kicked enough butt for one night."

He got up off of the trunks, and he stretched out his hand to Allura to assist her. "Truce?"

"Never!" Allura said as she took his hand. He pulled her up to her feet in one easy movement.

"Whoa!" The princess tried to balance herself. "My head..."

"I guess between the drinks and the body slam into your luggage...come on, Allura." Lance gently draped Allura's left arm over his shoulders. He wrapped his right arm around her waist and led her across the common area of the suite to her room.

The doors parted before them. "Just a little bit more, and..." He looked around the room to check the path to the bed. _Good, no luggage_. He led the groggy princess over to the edge of the bed.

_Ok. Put the princess in the bed, quickly get up and walk out. Out! Leave, McClain! _Lance coached himself as he tried to position the princess on the bed. "There's your pillow, ok...fluff fluff, here you go..." He eased Allura onto the pillow. She sighed as she fell back into the awaiting bed.

"Well, uh, goodnight, Princess!" _YES, that is the good answer. Get up off the bed before something_...

"Wait! Where are you going? Stay with me!" Allura's eyes opened as she gently wrapped her right hand around his left wrist.

Lance laughed, and for the first time in his slightly inebriated memory, he felt somewhat uneasy in a room with a tipsy woman. Not like he hadn't been in a similar situation before, but this was no average woman. She was a princess, a teammate and one of his best friends.

"Aw come on, Allura. I can't take your snoring all night!"

This time the movement wasn't gentle. Something happened...his world flipped. He was flat on his back in the bed and nearly face to face with the Arusian princess.

"Now where did you learn that maneuver!"

"I'm a ninja too." Allura slurred. "Stay with me, at least until I start snoring!"

_I'd stay longer...a lot longer._

But that was not said.

_Better not go there..._

"And why would I do that?" Lance asked, turning toward the princess.

"Because you're my favorite!" Allura whispered with giggle, as if she were a little girl telling a school classmate a very big secret. She turned her head and looked straight into his eyes. "You tell me dirty jokes, and you let me beat you up. "

"Ha! Yeah, I guess I do." Lance turned his gaze up to the ceiling. "You are pretty damn tough, you know. I don't really let you beat me up. It just happens."

"Liar!" She reached over and covered his hand with hers.

A thoughtful pause settled in between them. Neither of them moved, both content in the moment and in finding the comfort they needed. After several minutes, Allura was the first to speak.

"Lance, this is the first time I have laughed since..oh, I can't even remember. I am so afraid of what is going to happen."

"I know, Allura. I think..I'm scared too." He looked back over at the princess. Moonlight crept into the room through a window somewhere behind them and lightly lit Allura's face. He could see tears rolling down her cheeks through the moonlight.

"Hey,...Allura. Don't..."

He reached over and pulled her over toward him. She curled up softly against his side. She closed her eyes as she draped her arm across his chest.

He turned off that voice in his head telling him to leave. This is where he needed to be. Lance softly stroked her hair as she continued to cry, the frustrations of the past weeks coming out. As the tears slowed so did her breathing. He could tell she was falling asleep.

"So, Allura, am I really your favorite?"

"Uh huh."

"And all this time I thought _someone else_ was your favorite!"

She sighed.

"I am tired of competing with dead people, Lance. I have been doing it all of my life. "

Despite the haze induced by the overpriced Jack Daniels at the hotel bar, the hurt and frustration in Allura's voice was not lost on Lance.

She felt that she would never be respected as much as a dead king and as cherished as a dead fiancée. Lance understood that.

Obviously, a certain Voltron commander did not. _If that is true, then Keith is a fool_. Lance thought to himself as ran his hand through her golden hair.

"Goodnight, Lance. Aren't these sheets nice?"

"Goodnight, Allura. They are nice. You should get some for the Castle of Lions. Or at least for me-since I am your favorite."

Allura made an attempt at a laugh, but sleep was taking her over. It was not long before the right arm of Voltron did the same.

It was the best sleep either of them had in weeks.

8^8

Inspirational Playlist: Eve6 "Here's to the Night" and Mazzy Star, "Fade into You"


End file.
